


A Mother's Love

by InsaneWeasel



Series: The Slow Unraveling of Gordon Freeman's Life [1]
Category: HLVRAI - Fandom, Half Life VR But The AI Is Self Aware
Genre: Ask to add a tag, Benrey is a terrifying eldritch abomination, Body Horror, Friendship to My Mom Killed My Best Friend to Whoops Don't Remember, Gen, Guns, Horror, I'm Bad At Tagging, Pre-HLVRAI, Pre-Relationship, Prologue, Prologue that got away from me, Slightly positive police depiction, bad government
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-18
Updated: 2020-08-18
Packaged: 2021-03-05 22:01:58
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 4
Words: 11,584
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25972576
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/InsaneWeasel/pseuds/InsaneWeasel
Summary: 17 years before Gordon Freeman nearly dies at Black Mesa and kills the entity known as Benrey, there was maybe some truth to Benrey saying they were friends before.OrGordon Freeman's mother discovers her son's best imaginary friend isn't so imaginary and is not quite human.Credit to where I first saw the idea of Gordon had a not-so imaginary friend: “maybe that is why I’m enamored with the thought of seeing angels in the sky that are singing” by lem0nshark
Relationships: Benrey & Gordon Freeman, Benrey/Gordon Freeman
Series: The Slow Unraveling of Gordon Freeman's Life [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1885096
Comments: 21
Kudos: 204





	1. 1: The Not-So Imaginary Friend

**Author's Note:**

> Peepee. Penis. Prologue to another fanfic not yet written.   
> Credit for idea—read fanfic. Think it was “maybe that is why I’m enamored with the thought of seeing angels in the sky that are singing” by lem0nshark. Liked idea of Benrey and Gordon having friendship when young.  
> But I am. Whore. Horror. Horror writer. Friend and I decided Benrey is horrifying. Whore. Fun. Ifying. I. Like telling stories from the wron guh POV.   
> Broken into chapters for ease of access.

_17 years before the Black Mesa Resonance Cascade. 1992. May. 20._

Mrs. Bethany Freeman, a married woman and mother of one, very smart, very promising young child considered herself a very average person. She was happy where in life she was, and her awareness of worldly problems was not as outrageous as those who were convinced aliens existed and spacecrafts flew overhead, but she was a well-informed reader, who did like to keep up with social issues and was very forward compared to some of the women she hung out with.

She even considered herself above the red-scare and even shared her husband’s interest in the newly available internet. Their modest computer was used for the relatively new “World Wide Web” although, Bethany herself wasn’t too sure with navigating it, although she did like using the keyboard for typing her notes up for book club. Much cleaner than the typewriter, that was for dang sure.

Though, her sole thoughts now revolved around peeking in on her son, who she knew liked to play in the woods behind the house with his imaginary friend. She knew ten was too old to have an imaginary friend, but she figured it wasn’t too harmful. It was good of him to get fresh air, not that she wasn’t proud of her son’s bookishness and his relatively large appetite for knowledge.

She descended the back porch, following the familiar foot-trail her son had practically ground out from his constant patterns. She heard his giggles as he darted through trees playing tag with his friend ‘Benrey.’ She knew not where the name came from but dismissed it. Maybe it was a name of a character or scientist in a book he read.

“Gordon! Time for supper!” She yelled.

She didn’t get a response. He was probably too caught up with his running to notice her. With the lateness of the day, the woods were slightly darker than she’d like for her son to be playing in this late, and maybe that’s why this time, the slight glow of light caught her eye.

Gray light. She narrowed her eyes. She saw briefly her son run past and at first, she felt her worry quelled, until she did see a figure behind him. He didn’t seem scared, his giggling and soft taunting of his imaginary friend continuing, but soon, her worries returned.

Because for all the five years her son had played with the imaginary friend called ‘Benrey’ it was today for Mrs. Bethany Freeman, she learned somethings existed beyond the already troubling real world concerns, in the form of the gray lights coming from the eyes of it.

To describe it, would be hard, because Bethany wasn’t sure what she was witnessing, and she couldn’t piece it together enough to draw it if she was a decent artist. It had two eyes, where most predators had eyes—above a nose?—and a mouth. A mouth too wide. Too sharp. Able to open too long. Too large. Too many rows of teeth inside it. Because it too laughed.

But it did not have a human sound. It sounded distorted. It was like a mimicry of human laughter, as it understood it. It moved in the same mimicry of human running, but it was off. Off, like the animatronics at the Disney World parks. Not quite human enough.

It had too many eyes above the ‘normal’ eyes.

But the eyes did not exist at all times. Between one step of the figure and the next. They vanished and reappeared.

The shape of the figure, the clothes of the figure—seemed like it was trying to mimic her son’s. It wore a long-sleeved shirt and pants, but of the same grayish-blue the rest of its figure seemed comprised of. The design of the clothes mimicked the striped shirt she knew her son had and the jeans her son often wore when playing outside.

When it laughed orbs of color came from out of its mouth. Floating like bubbles into solid objects lingering there before vanishing or oozing into the item. Its laugh as it grew closer, Bethany likened it to the more synthetic disco she’d heard.

As it grew closer to her in the process of chasing her son, Bethany reflexively took a step forward. Though she did not understand what she saw, she sensed danger from it and although she knew not what danger it could do, wanted to stop it.

Its eyes turned to her.

She felt its gaze—and as if forced to by the blue orbs she saw. Froze.

And it kept running. A voice not quite human yelling “Tag! Got you!”

She could hear her son’s giggling and despite the blue orbs, Bethany blinked and followed the sound of her son’s giggling. “Gordon!” She yelled again, a little more concerned.

This time the giggling died down.

“Gordon, supper!” She said forcefully. Her voice was wavering with fear. Her eyes kept searching for her son, and more fretfully, for the ‘Benrey.’ She heard her son say something and heard more clearly at the end of the sentence, “Bye, Benrey! See you, tomorrow!”

Bethany nearly cried in relief. Her son nearly barreling into her, only stopping at her expression. “Mom? Is something wrong?” She looked past Gordon to see those gray eyes glowing, staring at her through the trees. Literally through the trees. Where a tree should have blocked it—its eyes pierced through. She took her son’s hand and smiled. “No, nothing’s the matter. Come on. Let’s go. It’s getting dark out!”

She didn’t want to turn her back on the thing, but she could only quicken her and her son’s pace as they left. Feeling its gaze bore into her. Her son caught her uneasiness and like the smart boy he was, asked about it. “Mom—what’s wrong? You seem scared.”

“I just don’t like the dark woods.”

Her son laughed. He nodded a bit and said, “I used to be scared, but Benrey said he could get rid of any danger.”

Mrs. Bethany Freeman did not sleep that night. She sat at their computer, after making sure her son and husband were too busy asleep to notice, and she looked for something. Navigating the internet back then was no easy feat—but Bethany looked at the cheesy books and the more technical manuals and tried. Her husband had certain links written down to the World Wide Web’s virtual library, but none would reveal any information.

She tried books. She tried all avenues she knew. It was a small opinion piece in yesterday’s newspaper that caught her eye. Referencing an event and article written six years ago.

_“…I don’t believe the commies are truly done with us. I remember the strange lights in the woods near Weston street six years ago. Your barely-there journalist, Jim Heron, covered it. Said according to the Sheriff’s office and their team of volunteers it was just a case of some teenage hooligans fooling around. And then funny enough—three teenagers found dead a couple days later in a boating accident in the lake? They clearly witnessed the damn commies and were put to death by commie-supporters within our government. Who knows when they’ll come for me next? I demand better from the journalists covering our town. They don’t even live here,_

_Aware Citizen”_

Response from the Editor, _Robert Pat,_ “Dear Aware Citizen. The article you’re referring to, written by our now retired Jim Heron, on May 20, 1986, was lacking in some details, but Heron himself was not able to go out in visit the site of the lights himself. We apologize for the lack of named firsthand accountings, and from what we understand, the teenagers reported found in the woods and the teenagers who died in the boating accident were not the same. The teenagers found in the boating accident were not residents, unlike those the sheriff and his volunteers reported in the woods. I contacted one of the witnesses of the lights who we previously didn’t name, which I apologize, Lily Becker who lives on Weston street, and she said the lights did not look like a bomb as you suggested or any sort of known device used by the Russians. She said it was a collection of colorful glowing orbs but said she did have a migraine and her perception could have been faulty. The other witness we did not name at the time, Keith Opard, passed away last spring of cancer, at the age of 74. His account before was that the lights could have been flashlights but moved too strangely and ignored the laws of gravity and the trees. No evidence or reason links the incident to Russians.”

Bethany felt a chill run down her spine. As she looked up from that column, sure she would be visiting the local library and seeing if she could find the old paper, she saw gray eyes staring at her through the window.

She was on the second floor.

Bethany screamed.

Her husband, bless his heart, came running in with their gun, but when he arrived, nothing was outside. She came clean to him about what she saw, and with a troubled look he held her, but his eyes said it all. He didn’t believe her.

Mrs. Bethany Freeman knew that what her son played with was not human, nor imaginary.

…


	2. The Strange Light Event of Six Years Ago on Weston Street

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> pppppfjdisllllddfkdlsbububhbjkd. other chapters finished. just. gonna. post. l8r g8r.

She slept frightfully. The gray eyes and colorful orbs haunting her dreams.

Her husband went off to work and she on the warm summer day she took her son to the library with her. She let him wander off, his eyes already alight with the books he was likely to go peruse and she was left in peace to wander off the recollection of newspaper.

With the help of a kind librarian, she found the newspaper from the date May 20, 1985 and scanned the dated paper with the help of a projector in the plastic film it was kept in to protect it. She found on the third page in the last article slot, under an article about the larger town’s nearby festival, a small article by Jim Heron on “Strange Lights Seen by Residents.”

“Local residents of XXXXXXX reported seeing “strange colorful orbs floating in the woods behind Weston Street. Monday night, as residents were getting home from work and wives were preparing dinner, some residents from across the town of XXXXXXXX reported seeing strange lights coming from the direction of Weston Street.

Henry Jacob, who worked at the auto-repair-shop near Weston street, described the colorful lights as he left work from the rearview of his back mirror.

‘I just got off work and was pulling out of the drive, when I saw orbs darting through the woods—like at the speed of a car—in Weston street. I nearly backed into another car, so I stopped and got out to see them, but when I looked again, they were too far into the woods—more towards the lake to see,’ Jacob said.

While the lights were concerning to the residents, Sheriff Oscar Hess said it was nothing to be worried about and said a group of him and two volunteers, Gilbert Hanson and Riley John went out to the site near Clinton lake and surveyed it.

‘We found three teenagers goofing around with flashlights. They put gel or something over the flashlights to make the different colors,’ Hess said. ‘I think everyone’s just on edge and thought it was something bigger, but it wasn’t anything to be concerned about.’

The volunteer Riley John said he didn’t think the teenagers caused the initial lights but couldn’t be certain.

‘I think they were just there before we were—as teenagers oft are—to see the commotion of the lights. What caused the lights? No idea. But whatever it was, it was gone when we got there. Could have just been a freak lightning strike—they sometimes cause orbs like that when they hit something.’

Local meteorologist, Daniel Scott confirmed that yes, lightning strikes can sometimes create unusual effects—and as Jacob described, he’d heard thunder.

Whether it was teenagers or lightning remains debatable, but it did create a small stir in the community.”

Bethany was mildly spooked when someone walked right behind her. It was just the librarian. “Oh, I remember that whole mystery.” The librarian caught her wide eyes. “Sorry dear, glanced at it over your shoulder.”

“I don’t—I think my family took a vacation near then—what happened?” Bethany asked.

The librarian chuckled. “I always believed the first one—just a group of teenagers, but I think lightning describes it better. I lived too far away to see anything, but my daughter said some rumors among the teens were that a few of them that went out into the wood saw a spacecraft or something. Though my daughter was always a good girl, a skeptic. Just too many of them strange kids watching Star Trek or the like and wanted to make believe.”

Bethany nodded, but she had a strange suspicion in her gut. She didn’t share this with the librarian. Instead, she chuckled and said, “Huh, and here I lived on Weston street and never heard of it.”

The librarian laughed, clutching a hand to her chest. “You should talk to Lily Becker. Darling is a little older than I am, and a little bit lost for words since her husband died—you might know him, janitor for the local school. But she’s become a bit of a storyteller these days, and that’s one of her favorites.”

Bethany nodded, curious enough to follow that lead, and the librarian suddenly paused, a thought springing to her head. “That reminds me…were you curious because of that opinion piece?”

Bethany nodded again. The librarian tutted and nodded. “I love reading the paper, especially those opinion pieces. Although old Pat got it wrong or heard wrong from the Sheriff. Man may not be associated with any commies, but he’s not above telling a lie. Those teenagers were residents of our little town that died in the boating incident at the lake. I think Sheriff Oscar just feels a bit guilty. He shouldn’t! They were a group of troublemakers.”

An unwelcome feeling settled in Bethany’s gut. She nodded and thanked the librarian for her help before finding her son settled in the non-fiction section, reading a book. She let him check it out and took him home, feeling one new development settling in her mind. As her son entered the house and immediately went to grab a glass of water, she paused him.

“Gordon, stay inside today.”

“But I told Benrey I’d play with him!” Gordon said.

She smiled, hiding the real feelings of absolute terror and worry she felt. “I’m sure Benrey will understand. I just don’t want to have to keep an eye on you out there today.”

Gordon pouted. “You’ve never had any problems before.”

Her smile tensed. “Well, a mother can never be too careful.”

Gordon nodded reluctantly, grabbing the book he checked out and heading upstairs. Bethany quietly settled downstairs in the living room, at the last second deciding to draw the curtains on the window before settling down. All too fearful of the gray eyes she had seen before. She pulled out the yellow pages and found her neighbor Lily’s number. After a few rings the woman picked up.

“Hello, is this Lily Becker?”

“This is she,” the woman said.

“Hi, I’m your neighbor, Bethany Freeman—”

The woman on the other end was silent, then—

“Oh, the wife of the scientist. Yes, I’ve seen you around. Your husband is always a busy one. And I think I’ve seen your son darting in and out of the woods from time to time.”

“Yes, that’s me,” Bethany said. “I’m sorry to be calling you so abruptly, but I was reading the paper and realized I was never around for that strange-light incident that happened in the woods on Weston street and I heard you might know something about it.”

There was a long pause and the woman seemed to be thinking hard. “I’m not quite sure what you mean, dear?”

Bethany hoped the woman hadn’t forgot it. “The lights that appeared in the woods on May 19?”

A click. Bethany stared at the phone as she held it, the cord having ended up wrapped around her fingers. The woman had hung up on her.

Strange.

Bethany redialed her. No response. She checked the yellow pages—it had her address. She was a couple houses down. She could go to her house.

And leave her son alone?

Bethany’s gut tightened. She didn’t have a cell—never needed one. She could lock the doors when she left, have Gordon promise her he wouldn’t leave. It couldn’t get in. It hadn’t yet. Still, she felt unnerved and she ended up going upstairs to her son’s room where she found him sitting comfortably on a beanbag, reading from the book. He looked up at her curiously.

“Gordon, honey, I’m going to go over to our neighbor’s house—but,” she was going to feel guilty for this, “but I’m concerned about your safety. There’s…there’s been a string of break-ins lately in the neighboring town and I don’t want you to be in danger.”

Gordon’s forehead scrunched in worry. “Oh…”

“It’s fine dear. Just…keep the door locked and don’t answer the door while I’m gone, okay?” She asked. Her son nodded. He glanced out his window, but to what, she couldn’t see. To the woods?

To Benrey?

Her gut tightened. Worry twisting knots in it. What if the creature knew? What if it knew she was looking into it? Following what could be a nonsense lead or…

It’s arrival.

What she suspected it to be.

“Stay inside where it’s safe. Okay. If you think anyone’s breaking in—call…?”

“911,” he answered dutifully. “Could I go to the woods? Then the burglars can’t get me there?” Gordon asked.

“No,” she said a little too quickly and loudly. Her son’s eyes widened. “No. Just…It’s safest inside. Okay.”

“Okay,” Gordon agreed reluctantly.

She didn’t feel convinced. “Promise me you won’t leave the house while I’m gone or let anyone in?” she stressed. He must have felt her conviction and out of a dutiful response to make her feel better said:

“Okay, I promise mom. Like you said, Benrey can wait.”

She smiled. Feeling just the slightest bit better. “Okay, I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She locked his bedroom door. Just to be safe. Then locked the front door as she left. She even checked the backdoor’s lock. Her eyes went to the woods as she did, and she saw nothing, but felt fear regardless.

She walked down the street, clutching her purse close to her stomach, her eyes glancing towards the woods as she could see it between the houses, but there were no signs of it. Her neighbor she spoke with more, Delia, waved to her from where she was tending to her garden, her two young daughters playing house with dolls on the porch. She passed their house and then was at the address in the yellow books of Lily.

It looked neglected. The grass was overgrown in the front, the shrubbery wild and uncontrolled. The paint was peeling and when she took a step on the wooden stair it creaked ominously. A spider was winding a web in the corner of the porch and Bethany steeled herself. She had to persevere for answers.

She pulled open the screen door and knocked on the wooden door to the house, the old wood nearly groaning with her at first timid knock, then more forceful one.

Silence.

She tried again. From the other side of the door she heard a scuffle, then the sound of a chain being removed, then a deadbolt before the door opened a crack, one chain still apparently affixed. An old and bleary eye stared out at her. Bethany smoothed her sweaty hands on her jeans and smiled tentatively at Lily.

“Miss Becker?” she asked.

“You’re the Freeman woman. One who called,” Lily said roughly.

“Yes, that was me,” Bethany said politely. At Lily’s silence she continued. “I’m sorry if this is rude, but I…I want to know what you saw that night.”

“You don’t want answers. You don’t,” Lily said in a hushed tone. Her voice was wary, fearful. She looked past Bethany. “You don’t. They can hear us on the phone. They’ll start watching you too.”

Bethany glanced behind her. There was no one there. “Sorry, Miss Becker? But who are they?”

Lily shook her head. Whispering softer. “The government. It’s why no-one will talk about it. They don’t want us to know.”

Bethany suddenly felt this was a dead end. An alien conspiracy. The government? Not likely. She considered backing away, deciding it was not worth her time, but Lily must have saw her look and the old woman laughed, cruelly.

“See. You get answers. But you won’t want them. They think I’m crazy now. No one asks how my husband died. In an accident. Government.”

Bethany paused. She didn’t want to think like Lily, but hesitantly she let herself. “How did your husband die?”

Lily hesitantly reached for the last chain on her door. “You better come inside. The government has eyes everywhere. They’ll take your family. They find ways to take them from you. Don’t let them know you know.”

She opened the door and practically pulled Bethany inside, clutching her wrist with such a strong grip for a bony-handed old woman. She latched the door meticulously behind Bethany and Bethany looked around the house. Despite the neglected appearance of the outside, the inside was not as sad. It looked musty—as if the woman tried her best, but in her age could not get every corner, but not unloved. The only sore spot were all the windows were covered up.

“Come sit. I’ll get us tea.”

“You don’t have to,” Bethany assured the woman, but she waved her off.

“Might as well. You’re in for a story. One that’s better told over alcohol or tea, and the doctor says I’m too old for the former.”

Despite the situation, Bethany laughed. She cut it off, covering her mouth, but the old lady turned a wise eye to her. Smiling. She went to the small kitchenette in her house and pulled out two loved and old mugs and a teapot, and her bags of tea.

“Make yourself comfortable,” Lily called over her shoulder. Bethany did her best. Sitting tersely on the edge of a couch cushion and found herself mildly startled by the cat that came up and brushed against her legs. It was a chubby thing, with brown fur brushed lovingly and yellow eyes that peered up at her. “Mew?”

She reached down and pet it, only for it to accept a few strokes before wandering off to sit in the corner and stare at her. The tea was done sooner than expected and Lily returned with the two mugs, handing one off to her. A bottle of honey was brought with her and two spoons, and Bethany despite being not greatly into tea, recognized at least the smell of green tea. She helped herself to a good amount of honey and drank the tea slowly.

“Supposed to be good for you,” Lily said, adding a bit of honey and stirring her tea slowly, “whiskey was better. Well dear, you want the short or long version of that night?”

She should get home to Gordon as quick as possible, but she needed all the info she could gather. “The long please.”

The old woman stirred her tea again. “I blamed it on a migraine after I saw what happened to Old Opard. It wasn’t cancer that got him. It’s what the coroner report had to say. What they had to say to his family.” She took a sip of tea and scowled. She added more honey. “He was drained of all life and most of his blood and part of his flesh.”

Bethany had chosen the wrong time to take a sip. She nearly choked on her scalding hot tea. “What?”

The woman grinned at her; the missing teeth in her mouth unsettled Bethany. “The alien. The government? Whose to say. They know it’s here; yet they’ve done little to catch it. May not be an alien. May be something worse. I saw it and the lights.”

“I’m sorry,” Bethany had to set her tea down to stop herself from ending up spilling it on herself. “This is a lot. An alien? What?”

“The thing in the woods that night is what I saw first. I used to have a dog, Muppet. Took her out for a walk when I heard a thunderous boom. Thought it was the storm,” Lily’s eyes were far away now. “Should have turned back. Saved myself all the trouble. But no. I kept going. Muppet hadn’t relieved herself, and I told myself if I let her walk further out, she’d finally do it. But she smelt something. She started yapping. Panicked. Didn’t think anything of it then.”

Bethany found herself sinking into the seat. Listening intently.

“So, I let her go further. And further. And I saw the rift. Looked like space itself like they show it on the televisions had opened into our world. Black and starry, and full or orbs and colors behind this…this alien. Green swirling at the edges of it all. It was nearly seven feet tall—must have been. Half the size of the tall oaks, formless. Full of colorful orbs in it’s dark gray shape.”

The cat nearly scared Bethany again as it jumped up to sit next to her, meowing. Lily paid it no mind. Too far away in the past.

“Muppet pulled out of my hand. Ran straight for the damn thing growling. Dog died. No other kinder way to say that she was ripped apart. Not like blades. Like every…every part of her being was being pulled apart and separated. I may be old, may have been then, but I ran. The thing didn’t see me. Not then. I saw the orbs…colorful. Everywhere. Bursting out as the rift closed. I think I nearly died of a heart attack. Ran into my home and locked the door. But through the window I saw those colors…Beautiful. Something you’d want for a wedding. But horrifying. All I could think of at the time was Muppet’s dead.”

Lily took a long sip of her tea. Snorted.

“Now I just hate the dog for getting me into this mess.”

“Did it have gray eyes?” Bethany found herself asking.

Lily looked at her. “Think I saw it’s eyes? I saw enough of it and ran. If I’d seen its eyes, it’d have seen me. Opard saw it clearly. He’d been out in the woods, chopping firewood. Said it ran past him. Didn’t bother with him back then, but he must have gone too far into the woods last spring. It got him. Anyone who goes too far into the woods…they wind up dead. Haven’t you seen?”

Bethany wasn’t sure of what to make of it. She could believe it. But that would mean her own son had been in danger countless times and she hadn’t stopped him? God, she was an awful mother.

“I—I haven’t. The Sheriff went into the woods that night. So did his volunteers. And those teens. They’re alive.”

Woman tutted. “Teens aren’t alive. Died in a boating accident being fools. They died of stupidity, but what happened to their corpses after they died. The alien.”

“What happened to their corpses?” Bethany asked.

“Flesh gone. Blood gone.” Lily took a sip of tea again.

“How do you know any of this?” Bethany wanted not to believe it.

“You learn to ask people who also doubt what they see. That Riley kid—youngster that works with the Sheriff. Father’s in some sort of government. He’s a good kid. Tells me about it. He knows the government’s bad too, but he’s protected. Father wouldn’t let anything happen to him. He gets the real coroner’s reports from the Sheriff’s desk all the time. Sheriff’s caught him doing it. Won’t tattle on him. Think the Sheriff’s hoping someone braver than him will tell the truth. Man’s a coward.”

“Or just wants to live,” Bethany found herself arguing. She’d met Oscar at the town barbeque before. He was a good sheriff for their small town. Less than 400 folks and he was the only real permanent law enforcement along with volunteers. They were paid volunteers, but it came out of his and the city council’s budget. They had to be thankful for what he did.”

“Survivors can be cowards,” Lily said. “Though I’ll give him credit. If we all knew. We’d die.”

“That wouldn’t be possible,” Bethany said. “They can’t kill a whole town.”

“Can do it easily,” Lily said.

Bethany decided not to argue. She had her limits on belief and that was one of them. She changed the topic. “How do you know Riley tells you the truth?”

Lily shrugged. “I just trust him.”

It made Bethany feel a little bit better. So, what if some teens died being stupid at the lake. Or supposedly Opard died oddly. No proof of either, and if dating and marrying a scientist had taught her anything—it was that hard facts meant more than word of mouth. But it didn’t shake the fear, the very human fear.

That she had seen what followed her son. And if it was truly killing those that went into the woods…

“You didn’t come here from just the opinion article,” Lily said finishing off her tea. “You’ve seen the alien.”

Bethany’s wide eyes must have given it away. Lily chuckled.

“If you went into those woods, you’re good as dead.”

“I’m not,” Bethany said defensively. “I have gone into those woods for a long while. My son goes into them to play. I just…I saw…something…”

Lily’s eyes squinted. She didn’t believe her. “Must not go deep enough then. Don’t let him go deeper.”

God, she was going to reach peak crazy to say this to the conspiracy theorist, but… “I think my son’s imaginary friend is the alien creature.”

Lily looked at her. Bethany expected a number of reactions. If Lily truly hated that thing like it sounded like she did and believed it killed people in impossible ways, maybe she’d declare Bethany a heathen and shoo her from the house. Maybe she’d stagger away from Bethany in fear that her son had been marked by the devilish creature. Maybe she’d shake her head and say Bethany was mistaken.

Lily just refilled her tea. Took a sip and said, “Huh.”

“What?”

“Nothing.”

“No—no there’s clearly something. You believe this is an alien creature literally ripping people apart. You believe there’s a cover up. You believe the US Government is killing anyone who finds out or something—so what is it? It isn’t nothing.”

Lily set her tea down and then gazed steadily at Bethany. “Young woman, I believe you might be the dumbest person in your family line if you didn’t figure out your son was playing with an alien for five years.”

Bethany stared at her agape. “What?!”

Lily just stirred more honey into her tea. “You heard me. As for what about it—well, dear. I’m not an expert on the damned alien. I’m…well I call Sheriff Oscar a coward, because I am too. Everyone I know ends up saying nothing or dying about the damned ordeal, so we all sit here in our homes. Saying nothing. Knowing nothing. Just whispering to each other.” She drank her tea, her eyes on Bethany the entire time.

Bethany was unnerved. “I—I…” she couldn’t find the words.

Lily set down her tea. “Better to be a coward then. You can’t know nothing anymore, dear. Better learn to say nothing. Don’t expect what I’ve told you will go unnoticed. By either government or the alien. If it’s truly been friends with your son for five years—I don’t expect it’ll be very happy you’re taken an interest in it now.”

“This is insane. This…” Bethany gestured helplessly, startling the cat sitting on the back of the chair to jump off. “I’ve had to have lost my mind.”

“No, dear, afraid not.”

“This can’t be happening.”

“’Fraid it is.”

“What do I do?”

“Say nothing. Pretend to know nothing,” Lily said. “Think you best get home now. Your husband usually gets home around this time. It’s ten until six-thirty.”

“My son could very well be in danger,” Bethany said.

“Good luck, dear. If you need me, I’ll likely be killed by the alien or the government. I’m not too sure they’ll like that I’ve told someone as nosy and able-bodied as you,” Lily said. She helped Bethany stand, ushering the younger woman to her feet and right out the door. Bethany’s awareness didn’t come back to her until she was standing outside on the creaky old porch and looking out at the familiar street.

God, she had stepped into wonderland. She was crazy. This was not reality. She had taken a trip into another world. She was Alice right now, just of the wrong skin and hair. Bethany went home in a hurry, keeping her purse close and she unlocked her door, her fear for her son tripling.

She had tried not to believe Lily’s crazy story about the alien ripping skin and blood and obliterating a dog apart—all things with no concrete proof—consume her, but now she imagined that happening to Gordon and her heart hammered painfully in her chest.

“Gordon?” she called out as she entered the house. No response. Fear crept into her. “Gordon!” she tried again louder.

She heard a noise coming from upstairs. She hurried up the stairs nearly tripping and paused in the hallway, strange colors coming from under the door at the end of the hall. Her son’s room. She stood frozen, eying the strange lights at the end of the hallway coming from _her son’s room._ She went into the master bedroom and grabbed the gun from where she knew it was stored on the top shelf of their closet. Her fingers were sweaty, and she nearly failed to load the damn thing as she inched out of her room, fearfully towards her son’s room.

She could hear voices now.

“Stop that, Benrey, you’re making a mess,” Gordon’s voice came.

“Make me,” it retorted.

“I’m going to throw the book at you.”

“Your little baby arms are too shit to hit me,” it said.

The sound of a thud and then quiet laughter. Pinks and purple light coming out from under the door.

“Weak baby—oh I’m so scared. Gonna throw another book. Gonna have weak baby arms and miss me again,” it said.

“Shuddup,” Gordon retorted with a slight giggle.

Bethany lowered the gun. Her fear mixing with confusion. It nearly sounded human. It sounded so innocent. Just two boys playing. Nothing odd. Nothing unusual. Except Benrey wasn’t supposed to be real. The way it had looked in the woods the other day. The strange lights.

What if it was all just a bad hallucination? Just some sort of stress-break? Bethany hid the gun behind her back, adjusted her posture and cautiously inched towards her son’s room and knocked. “Gordon?” she asked.

The voices went quiet. She heard hushed whispering and then, “Yeah, mom?”

She tried the handle to her son’s room—the one she knew she used the master key to lock, just in case. And found it unlocked. She didn’t say anything about that, but instead pushed it open. She first saw the library book open on the floor, face down. From where it had been thrown. Gordon’s cheeks were still tinged from laughter and he was sitting on his bed.

“Are you okay, honey?” she asked.

He nodded. There was no confusion on his face, but he too late tried to hide what had been going on and pretend he was confused as to why she might ask that. It was such an obvious and bad lie, she almost relaxed entirely. Her son was all right.

“I thought I heard another voice.”

“Nope. No one. Didn’t let anyone inside just like you asked.”

“Uh-huh. That wasn’t Benrey?”

Her son’s eyes widened and if she hadn’t been about to shoot the damn what she thought must have been an alien, she would have hugged him. Maybe she was just had a worried-mother-breakdown. It was nothing. Benrey wasn’t some imaginary friend, but some boy she’d just never been aware of enough to meet that lived somewhere else in town.

God knows she’d asked plenty of mothers when Gordon was five if they had a son named “Benny” or “Barney” or finally, “Benrey.” None had, and one had suggested Gordon’s friend was imaginary. Maybe a single father had a son or something. It could all be normal

“Well, he can come out; I heard him,” Bethany said teasingly.

Gordon pulled at the blanket on his bed. His shoulders scrunched up. “Uh…Benrey’s shy. He’s already back outside. He doesn’t like being seen by strangers. Makes him nervous.”

Bethany pursed her mouth. “How’d Benrey get back outside?”

Gordon shrugged. “He just did.”

Bethany heard the front door open and recognized the heavy footsteps of her husband. She left her son’s room and stowed the gun away again, still loaded, on the top shelf. She wiped her sweaty palms on her pants again and greeted her husband with a smile.

Just pretend it was all a big mistake.

Ignore the thoughts of how in the world did Benrey vanish? Was he just hiding in Gordon’s room? Surely that was it. Nothing abnormal. “Pretend to know nothing.” Lily Becker had said to her.

No. There was no anything to know. Her husband and her worked side by side to start dinner, and when she checked on Gordon again to call him to supper, she found him reading. It was fine.

There was no anything. There was no anything to know.

She climbed into bed with her husband after tucking Gordon in. Her husband was awake enough to kiss her, which she melted into, grateful for the distraction. She slept closest to the door, but as she turned over to curl into her husband—she saw grey eyes staring at her through the window.

They were glaring now. It was obvious.

The look said, “I know that you know.”

And it didn’t stop when Bethany shut her eyes and buried her head against her husband’s chest, feeling him reflexively wrap his arm around her. She could feel the eyes burying into her skull.


	3. Say Nothing. Know Nothing. Do Nothing.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> am prolly posting this after work. if so. hell--oh future self. did bruno mars gay?
> 
> Future me here--fucking twins rowing markle winklevozz... gunna post during work cuz am dying. 
> 
> Also comment replys: thanks, i am awesome. I'm insane-weasel on Tumblr. I don't post updates there tho cuz kinda i sporadically throw words enter a blender.

Bethany Freeman was never an anxious woman. She grew up with the confidence one needed when they were born with breasts and expected to be lesser. She grew up backtalking as a defense mechanism and getting into trouble as a child. It’s how she met her husband—by being a backtalking troublemaker. Her husband was all scientist—no bark. And sometimes she had to do the talking for the both of them.

She thanks god her son did not get her skills at backtalking.

But lately, as in the last week. She had become an anxious woman. She could not backtalk something that never existed near her, and clearly was not human.

But Bethany could shoot it. She learned how to shoot a gun from her father, who said some intruders won’t stop when you just have a gun—you had to make sure they would.

And right now, she was pretty damn sure that banning her son from the woods had garnered her home an intruder.

At the start of this week, she had banned her son from going into the woods. He had whined. He had pleaded. He had complained. He had brought up Benrey as a defense. And she had come up with the ultimatum.

If Benrey joined them for dinner, and she met Benrey, she’d consider letting Gordon continue playing in the woods with Benrey. Sunday was when she had told Gordon that, and she’d even let him go play in the woods that day—to invite Benrey.

He’d arrived home, looking at his tennis shoes and said Benrey didn’t want to come.

If she hadn’t seen the terrifying creature known as Benrey, if she hadn’t heard the damn thing, like most mothers she’d have laughed it off and assumed Benrey was imaginary.

But she had heard it.

She had seen it.

And it knew she had.

It was Friday now, and whenever she muted the television on commercials, she could catch the faintest murmur of voices from Gordon’s room. But like before, she knew if she went up there, they would stop.

If she opened the door—there’d only be Gordon—who had gotten much better at pretending he hadn’t been playing with _it._

But there was always something amiss. Once. They’d both had to pretend the other wasn’t very aware of the floating orb still drifting lazily down from where it had been into the ground.

Bethany kept the gun in her purse. Which she kept on all her at all times.

She felt like she was coming unglued.

Bethany decided after she muted the television again and heard laughter, both Gordon’s and _its_ , she’d had as much as she could take. She went into Gordon’s room and tore the door open. She saw it for a millisecond. Saw its eyes go to her. And then—it was simply gone.

She ignored Gordon’s frantic babble and assuring her it wasn’t there. But looked under the bed, in his closet, behind anything—nothing was there. She nearly started weeping and if it wasn’t for her son staring at her with a mixture of guilt and concern, she would have.

“Gordon, tell me the truth,” Bethany pleaded, “He was here that day. He’s been here ever since I told you not to go into the woods.”

He looked at his bed. At his floor. “…yes.”

“Gordon, I…I need you to stop. Stop…stop letting it into the house. I need you to tell it to go away.”

Gordon’s eyes widened.

He looked to her with a hurt she felt guilty for bringing onto her son, but she couldn’t take it. It was a monster. And she had to protect her son. He was still too young to fully understand all the dangers of this world he could face, so she had to be honest with him. Had to be the ‘mean’ parent just this once. To protect him.

“Benrey’s my friend!”

“Benrey isn’t human,” she snapped. “It’s not…it’s not safe.”

Gordon closed his mouth. His eyes watered. He looked to the window, out at the woods. “Mom, he’s my friend. You didn’t mind him before!”

“I didn’t think he was real, before!” Bethany yelled. She didn’t mean to yell, but it was all too much. Her son looked so hurt, he was crying now. “Gordon, Benrey isn’t allowed in anymore. It can’t come in. You can’t go hang out with it. If…if I have to, I’ll send you to summer camp—but no more Benrey.”

Gordon’s hands balled into fists, but her son wasn’t violent—no, his tears were coming out in full streams. He was shaking with emotions she hadn’t seen him express since he was younger, but they were coming full tilt. His mouth twisted into a snarl and his eyes became vicious.

“I hate you!” he cried. “Get out!” It stung her. Buried into her heart and pained her, but she didn’t move from the room. She knelt next to her son as he collapsed onto his bed and sobbed into the comforter. She put a gentle hand on his back.

“I’m so sorry, Gordon. I know…I know it’s been your only…friend. I should have tried harder to help you make friends with the other kids. Set up play dates.” Gordon only buried his head further into the blanket and she rubbed slow circles into his back. “Gordon, please, baby. I’m sorry. You’ll have more friends in the future.”

“You’re mean,” Gordon sobbed into his blanket.

“I’m sorry, Gordon, but it’s for the best,” she said. “I love you with all my heart. I don’t want to be the one to bring you this pain, but I’m worried about your safety.”

“He wouldn’t hurt me!” Gordon said defensively, glancing at her.

“You can’t know that,” she said.

“He pinky-promised.”

“Gordon…” she said quietly. His hands unclenched from the blankets and she held out her arms for a hug. He tensed up, but then wrapped his arms around her, crying into her shoulder. “Did you know it—he wasn’t human?”

Gordon shook his head. “He’s just Benrey. He’s just special. He’s not dangerous. If he wasn’t so shy, I could take you to meet him; then you’d see!” Gordon said with such hope and optimism she felt like the world’s worst mother.

But as she held her son, she saw out the window. Not just gray eyes. But Benrey’s entire ‘face.’

Eight eyes. Sharp teeth bared into a snarl. Utter hatred etched into its entire being.

And all of it was pointed directly at her.

She held Gordon closer, and this time she didn’t flinch away from its stare. She met it with her own glare. Her own levelheaded intensity. She was done being afraid of this damned thing. Only her son’s feelings and well-being were keeping her from whipping the gun out and shooting it to death.

It didn’t retreat until Gordon lifted his head—like earlier—just blinking out of existence. Gordon wiped his eyes and said to her quietly, “I’m sorry; I don’t hate you.”

“I know. I forgive you.”

“I just don’t understand why you don’t like Benrey.”

“You will one day.”

“I don’t think so,” Gordon said. He rubbed the snot from his nose and sniffled, glancing out the window. “Can I at least say goodbye to Benrey, so he knows?”

The image of the sharp teeth and hatred in its eyes haunted her.

“Not a chance; I’m sorry,” she said. Gordon’s eyes were downcast, but he nodded.

“What if Benrey comes in here by himself?”

Her blood chilled at that statement, but she shook it off. No. Bethany Freeman you are done being scared of that damned thing. ‘You show it this your home, this is your family, and you won’t let a damned alien stand between you and it.’ “Tell it to go away and come get me.”

“Benrey won’t understand,” Gordon muttered.

“That’s why you come get me,” Bethany assured him. Gordon nodded. She hugged him again and he leaned into her. “Let’s do something to cheer you up. Let’s go out to eat, all-right?”

Gordon perked up a little and nodded. He slipped his shoes on and she did too, gently guiding him to the car. As she did, she felt eyes baring into her soul and cast a cool gaze in their direction, and saw from the edge of the woods, gray eyes.

“My kid. My house. My rules,” Bethany muttered to herself.

They ate a peaceful and nice meal and she let Gordon order a sundae which he cheered up immensely at eating. She felt better. She’d made progress on the issue. Did she nearly break her own heart, breaking her son’s? Yes. Did she still have some fears and doubts and worries? Yup.

Was she going to shoot that alien in the face?

Absolutely.

As she drove home, she recognized the red truck as Sheriff Oscar’s parked at the dilapidated house she knew to be Lily’s as she drove past it. She nearly just hit the brakes and rushed out there but forced herself to pull to the side of the road, telling Gordon to stay put, and join the few neighbors gathered outside and told by the younger Riley John to stay back.

From inside the house, Sheriff Oscar exited and pulled the cap he wore off his head and to his chest, shaking his head mournfully. He and Riley exchanged a quick, meaningful glance.

“Sorry folks, Miss Becker’s passed away. Looks to be a heart attack. I’ll have the coroner come down here and see. Think he’s in the next county. He should be here in a couple days.” The gathered neighbors, including Delia looked shocked and a little saddened. Delia and the few others departed, but Bethany found herself frozen.

“You okay Mrs. Freeman?” Riley asked.

“Riley John…tell me something. Did she die like Opard did?”

The momentarily tick gave it away. Riley’s face paled morbidly, before he forced himself into a quick head shake. “No…uh Opard died of cancer.”

Bethany had all she needed. She turned away from Riley and went to her car, opening the driver’s side door and seeing Gordon rolling up his window, as if the boy hadn’t been trying to eavesdrop. He was always too curious for his own good.

“The old lady down the street died?” he asked.

“Yes, she died of old age,” Bethany said. She was about to pull away, when Riley John looking crossed between vomiting and running, decided to come to her driver’s side window and knock on it. She rolled it down.

“She told you,” he hissed in accusation.

“She did.”

“God,” the man looked like he had swallowed a bucket of water and was drowning in it. He was trembling. “God, no. I…it’s my fault. I should never have told her. I…you’re not safe,” he whispered. His eyes went to Gordon in the back seat. “I’m so sorry.”

Bethany didn’t even flinch. She smiled at Riley. “Don’t be. I’m not scared.”

He shook his head. His eyes going to Gordon, as he chose his words carefully trying not to alarm him. “Mrs. Freeman, with all due respect, please try to leave town.”

“I’ll keep that in mind,” Bethany said and rolled her window up. Gordon was staring at her. He’d heard snippets of the conversation.

“What was that about?”

“He just wanted to know if she looked in poor health when I visited her.”

Gordon sat in silence for only a second before he said. “Mom, I’m pretty sure that’s not remotely what he was saying.”

“Gordon, trust me on this, this is adult business,” she said. He looked worried still but nodded. He went up to his room and she kicked off her shoes at the door, glancing at the clock in the living room. Her husband would be home soon. She wasn’t getting him involved. This was personal.

Lily Becker’s death was a message.

The alien did kill. And it would kill again.

And it was very fucking mad at Bethany Freeman.

And she, her hand on the gun in the purse, was fully prepared to shoot the damn thing to hell.

Her husband was none the wiser, other than Bethany telling him dutifully that Miss. Becker down the street had died. He nodded, commenting she seemed nice, before eating his dinner with gusto and reading the scientific journal his colleague had written.

He was always buried in a book. Which was why it was her job to protect this damn house.

She slept lightly that night. Fully prepared to storm into her son’s room, guns blazing. But it never happened.

She was not letting that damn thing get the best of her. This was war. And she was ready.

Gordon was still bummed about Benrey. He didn’t tell her it, but she saw his eyes glancing to the woods. As if waiting. For three days after Lily Becker’s death, there was a stalemate. The alien had yet to reappear and Bethany’s sleep schedule was a sporadic nightmare fueled by more coffee than normal, which her husband only mildly took note of with a comment that she maybe needed to drink less, and studies said that wouldn’t help with her lack of sleep.

She pecked him on the cheek, and he decided that must mean she would probably drink less coffee tomorrow and that was that.

It was on the fourth day the alien showed up again. Bethany had been catching up on the book club book when she decided with how tired her eyes were, she needed her reading glasses. She went upstairs to grab it from her room and saw _it_.

Gordon was unaware. He was sitting cross-legged on his floor playing on his Gameboy oblivious to the creature lurking behind him. Its body like a ghost, for lack of better descriptions, was halfway through the window. It’s head and arms lurking over the unsuspecting Gordon and its legs somewhere outside.

She had a clear shot. Before Gordon could even glance up at her, she took aim and shot the damn thing. Once. Twice. Thrice. It recoiled out the window on the third shot, orbs of light spewing from its mouth in all directions.

Gordon shot up in alarm, glancing at Bethany’s arm still outstretched with the gun, and the shattered window, and the floating orbs.

“You shot Benrey!”

“I’m not letting that alien come into the house. Ever. Again,” Bethany said breathless.

Gordon seemed too stunned to be concerned about the fact this was the first time he saw his mom holding a gun fixed at something, and that she had shot his apparent best friend of five years head on.

She had a suspicion it wasn’t dead. She crossed the room, minded the broken glass, and looked out the window. It wasn’t around, but a trail of glowing orbs led from below the window into the woods. It had retreated.

Gordon finally seemed to come to an understanding. “You shot Benrey,” he repeated again numbly. “You—you…you really think he’s dangerous.”

“It is,” Bethany said, and found a hair-elastic in her pocket and tied her hair up quickly. She needed it out of the way for this. She was going to hunt the creature down and make sure it was dead. Gordon looked at her, and then to the open doorway to his room, and before she could put two and two together, she saw him dart out.

“Gordon!”

She heard the backdoor slam and she followed her son best as she could, but he was faster than she was. He was into the woods before she made it out the backdoor, following the trail of orbs. She needed help. She needed back-up. If that thing got to her, she needed to make sure her baby was okay. She went to the landline and dialed the Sheriff’s number.

He barely had time to say, “Sheriff Os—”

“I’ve shot the alien. I need help. Backup. Something. It keeps going near my son. I want it dead.”

She could practically hear the man gasping. “You…You—got it. We’ll be there. I’ll have Riley John call his father. Figure it’s about time they finally got their damn asses out here and helped with this thing. It’s wounded?”

“Looked like. My son—my son thinks it’s his best friend. He went after it.”

“Shit—I’m getting out their fast as possible. Don’t suppose I can ask you not to go after him Mrs. Freeman until we get there?”

“Not a chance. My son’s life is on the line.”

“Got it. On our way.”

She let the landline slap against the wall and ran out the door. Gun tight in her hand. She followed the orbs, her feet pounding against the dirt. “Gordon!” She screamed.

Her son didn’t answer her. She ran as fast as she could, but she felt fear chilling her. What if was too late? Was it wrong to stop and call for backup? What if she didn’t make it in time? What if it got her son? What if…god, the many what ifs…

She knew she was near the lake. She knew a dirt road from the west of town lead to the lake. That was probably the road Sheriff Oscar would use. She could see the lake through the trees, and on the opposite side of the trait, a circle of orbs of varying colors spread out and a figure with glowing gray eyes outlined in a black glow hunched over. She also saw a smaller figure—and knew with a mother’s instinct.

“Gordon!” She screamed.

She saw from far across the lake her head’s son turn to her, but as her son did, so did the figure. A wave of blue orbs burst out from it and she was knocked back, frozen in place. The figure rose into the air, more orbs spinning around it, glowing gray eyes locking onto her.

She heard a voice in her mind. “Warned you. Wasn’t gonna do this. Was gonna let you get off. But you kinda askin’ for it now.”

Bethany fought past whatever was freezing her and fired at the thing until her gun was empty. It didn’t stop it. The orbs spun dizzyingly fast around it, a wind whipping up with them until she could feel her hair tugging in the wind. The alien hovered above the lake, water whipping up with the wind and she could see her son barely through the colors watching on the other side of the lake, standing to witness the true damn alien.

She heard the truck, but her eyes were locked on the colors. It felt like her brain was melting, like she was coming apart atom by atom. Molecule by molecule. She heard a burst of gunfire and she felt someone tackle her to the ground.

It was Riley John. Behind him stood Sheriff Oscar Hess, holding a hunting rifle and leveling it at Benrey. It didn’t kill him, but it had fazed him enough to stop him from whatever hold he’d had on Bethany. Riley John stood up and pulled out from his pocket a strange device and yelled over the heavy winds and water tornado forming, “Cover your ears—this thing will take him down.”

“Are you sure?”

“Yes!”

“Will it hurt my son?”

“Probably not. Not like we have a choice,” Riley with all the grace of a former baseball prodigy cocked back his arm and hit a button that immediately made it very apparent why they should cover their ears. A sheer ringing noise came from it nearly piercing her eardrums. She covered her ears as did Sheriff Oscar as he threw the thing at the vortex that was Benrey.

She watched with squinted eyes against the whipping winds, her hair working its way free of its ponytail and swiping across her face as for a moment, it seemed as it had all failed. Riley had his hands tight on his ears and they watched with horror—waiting for the end.

But it had worked.

Like a light switch it was instantaneous. The swirling water fell, and the orbs dissipated and the figure they came from fell, straight into the water with a loud splash. They hesitantly lowered their hands from their ears, watching the aftermath of the floating figure on top of the water, for the moment seemingly out of it.

Their silence was interrupted by the sound of a helicopter. They covered their ears again as it lowered over the lake, water sweeping out from where the propeller was causing it and a ladder descended. A couple men dressed entirely in black and tactile gear dropped from the ladder and one lifted the figure into a bag. They dutifully went back up the ladder, hauling the figure into the bag with them.

Once they were aboard. The helicopter departed and the three small town residents were left stunned.

“Well shit,” Sheriff Oscar Hess said in the long silence that followed.

“Mom!” Came a shout. Bethany turned to see her son running towards her, tears running down his face. He barreled into her, crying into her stomach, arms wrapped around her. She wrapped her arms around him, holding him tight as Riley rolled his shoulder back, and Sheriff Oscar just continued staring at the disappearing helicopter as it became too far away to see.

“What now?” Riley asked the question they were all thinking.

“We go home. We say nothing. And we hope that’s enough,” Sheriff Oscar said. “Need a ride, Mrs. Freeman?”

“Yes, please,” Bethany said. She had to gently pry Gordon’s hold off of her. She gently ushered him into the passenger of the truck, and she saw Riley hop into the back. It was a quiet drive, Gordon crying silently the entire time. If Sheriff Oscar had any questions, he refrained with a practiced patience, because he kept his mouth shut until they pulled to a stop in front of the Freeman household. She gently guided Gordon out and then turned to Riley and Oscar.

“Thank-you,” she said. “For everything.”

“Thank- _you,_ ” Sheriff Oscar. “Who knew. All we needed to get rid of it was one mother willing to shoot the damn thing.”

Bethany would have felt proud if she didn’t feel so rotten and empty. Her son looked shell-shocked and she was left standing at her house that felt so strange after what she had just witnessed. She wasn’t entirely convinced her brain wasn’t jelly inside her head.

Riley caught her expression and smiled sympathetically. “It’s best if you don’t think about it too much. Just…be glad it’s over.”

She tried.

She gently handed Gordon a book. Made his favorite meal. She hugged him and tried shushing his tears, but her child was traumatized. Nothing worked. She swept the glass up in his room to busy herself and covered his window with cardboard until they could find someone in town, or worst-case, hire someone from the bigger city over to come fix it. She explained away her son and the window to her husband as Gordon accidentally threw a ball through it and he felt guilty.

Something her husband somehow didn’t think to question, because all the facts seemed perfectly normal.

The gun being empty. Just a misplaced clip of bullets probably. Something completely and utterly normal.

And Bethany Freeman lay awake, only feigning sleep until her husband drifted into slumber to stare up at the ceiling and feel a mixture of feelings. She felt safe. She no longer felt something watching her. She no longer felt gray eyes peering through her soul.

But she felt guilty, because at the end of the day…

Maybe that was a murdering soul-sucking alien from a rift in reality.

But it was also her son’s only friend and best friend and he had just watched his mother and the Sheriff shoot it and then men in black in a helicopter bag it and take it away.

God. Why did protecting her son have to feel so rotten?

The magic answer came the next day when her husband left for work. A man in a well-pressed suit knocked on her door. He gave no real identification. “Hello, Mrs. Freeman, I presume?”

“Yes?”

“I am from Black Mesa’s Research Facility, a private contractor of the government, and I’m here to assure you one, that you did some outstanding work helping us capture an anomaly, and two, to offer you some services we can provide. My coworker’s son mentioned that your own son was having trouble…processing what he saw.”

For what information she was being given, she digested it quickly. “Yes, that’s correct. He…he believed the…anomaly…was his friend.”

The man gave her the most false-sympathetic smile she had ever witnessed.

“It happens. Children are often easily manipulated. We have a device we use to help citizens…forget…what they’ve seen. We liked to spare the usage, ethics and all, and we only like to use it in cases we see are deserving. I believe your case is.” He reached into a black suitcase and pulled out a small white pen-like device with a button at the top. There was a silver band around where the pen cap should be with a hole in it. “This is single use. We believe it’s most effective when someone the person trusts administers it. Simply point this,” he pointed at the hole in the pen-like device. “And say very simply what you’d like your child to forget. I heard it gave—or the anomaly gave itself a name—Benrey?”

Bethany nodded.

“Then simple. Simply point this at your child and ask that he forget Benrey and click the button on top.”

“That easy?” Bethany asked.

“That easy,” the man in the suit confirmed.

“What if it doesn’t work?” Bethany questioned.

“It always does,” he waved away. He picked up his suitcase and handed her the pen-device. “Do you understand?”

“Yes,” Bethany pocketed the device.

“Also, one last thing.” The man in the suit’s false smile didn’t fall. “Mrs. Bethany Freeman, you do understand you are under a heavy obligation to say nothing of what all oddities you’ve witnessed to anyone. Ever.”

“Yes,” Bethany Freeman said with a certainty she’d been taught her whole life when rules were assigned to her by her birthplace. “I’ve not even told my husband.”

This time the man’s smile seemed slightly more real.

“You’re a natural learner then. I don’t need to tell you why you wouldn’t tell anyone, do I?”

“I understand perfectly,” Bethany Freeman said.

“Good,” the man nodded to her. “Have a good day.”

“Same to you,” she said, and closed her door feeling a heavy weight resting in her pocket. She pulled it free and took a deep breath.

Bethany looked down at the device, and up to her son’s room. She climbed the stair, feeling every step like the weight of the world was on her shoulders. She knocked gently on Gordon’s door.

He had peeled the cardboard away and was staring out the window at the woods. Waiting. Waiting for something that hopefully was gone for good.

“Gordon?” she asked. He turned to her. “Come here.”

He did. She didn’t even need to look at the pen, to know she was pointing it correctly. Her son’s sad eyes weighed heavily on her soul. “Gordon, I need you to forget Benrey ever existed, please?” she asked, and she clicked the button.

A flash of white light.

Her son blinked.

“Gordon?”

His sadness was evaporated.

“Yes, mom?”

She felt immensely better and stowed the device in her back pocket. “Nothing. Just checking in on you. And how your window was doing. After you threw the ball through it all.”

He glanced at the window and winced. “Sorry about that, mom,” he said. And she felt so much relief, yet a guilt. She had taken something from her son. Once. Twice. Three times. But it was necessary. All to protect him. First to distance him from the danger. Then to get rid of the danger. Then to get rid of all the unnecessary pain he felt.

“It’s alright. Gordon?”

“Yes?”

“Does Benrey ring a bell?”

“What’s a Benrey?”

“Nothing. Just a name I heard from a story,” she said and pulled her son into a tight hug, burying her face into his hair and staring out the window into the woods.

Safe, at last.


	4. Epilogue: They'll Take Your Family Away

Bethany Freeman was regarded as many as a loving mother and a logical-headed woman, just like her husband. Delia always gushed about how caring she was; especially when she adopted the brown stray cat with yellow eyes. She named the cat Lily, in honor of Lily Becker. She knew not the cat’s original name, but it happily became a part of their household.

As her son grew with age, she quickly noticed him becoming like his father. She only felt herself give pause about that when around the time her son was 24, he called her on the phone and told her his new place of employment.

“It’s almost crazy that they accepted me. I’ve got to be the youngest guy here.”

“What’s the place called, dear?” Bethany said, petting Lily the cat between her ears as she paused in her reading, still using the old landline.

“Black Mesa Research Facility.”

Bethany Freeman was a confident woman. A loving and protective mother.

But she was also like all survivors in their town, a coward. She swallowed down the loud cry in the back of her throat, threatening to scream to her son to flee, to go far, far away from that place. It’s clear what happens to survivors who’re whistleblower.

“That’s wonderful. I’m sure you’ll do great. You’re so talented. I’m proud of you and love you with all my heart,” Bethany Freeman said, fighting back tears.

If her son heard them, he didn’t think the tears were what they really were. “Thanks, mom. Listen, I have to go. I have a meeting with one of the representatives. I’ll call you later. Tell dad the news for me!”

“Of course, goodbye honey.”

The click.

Bethany Freeman cried, because like the other survivors, she was helpless to tell even the one she tried to protect the truth. And the haunting fear, that whatever she shot all those years ago, was buried somewhere in the facility. The facility her son was going to be working at.


End file.
